Quinn Whalley of the UK acid duo on studio sessions and capturing the magic of analogue gear
INCLUDES VIDEO
Paranoid London – the duo consisting of Quinn Whalley and Gerado Delgado – are an example of how success can come from sticking to your guns and doing what you do well. Their sound is defiantly old school, a raw and unpolished take on acid house and techno, created by the interplay of hardware synths and drum machines with oddball sequencers and effects units. With little in the way of industry support, the pair have become cult heroes in the UK underground on the strength of their vibrant electronic jams and energetic live shows.
The band have also become known for their diverse and exciting pool of collaborators. New album – the excellently titled Arseholes, Liars and Electronic Pioneers – sees the pair working with the likes of rising house star Josh Caffe, Berlin musician Jennifer Touch, Chicago’s DJ Genesis, and Primal Scream frontman Bobby Gillespie.
We met up with Quinn Whalley in the band’s envy-inducing gear cave of a studio.
Can you tell us how Paranoid London started out?
“About 20 years ago I used to do this thing, what we used to call engineering. There were a bunch of people like me that knew how to connect MIDI cables and set up scuzzy effect chains and stuff. We would charge DJs, like, £200 to come to our studios, and they would bring a bunch of records, which we’d sample up for them and make them a track. There were loads of us that used to do that, basically just supporting our hobby of being in this studio.
“Del had tried working with a few other people, but it hadn’t worked. Then we got put in touch through a friend of mine, Justin Drake, who I used to do music with. At this point, me and my mate had just opened a studio and we had nobody coming in.
We were completely broke, and I had loads of time. Del lived in Tenerife at the time. He would come over about four times a year and we’d get in the studio. He’d bring a bunch of records, and each time it would be different. It would be whatever he was into at the time. He used to work in FatCat records, and he was a brilliant DJ, so he had a really good record collection. One time he might come over and say he wanted to make something like a Danny Tenaglia tribal record, or it might be a Derrick Carter, bumpity ‐bump thing.
“We were doing this for ages and he never put anything out. I started feeling bad about it. I’d say,‘Mate, you keep coming down here and paying me to do this, but you’re not really happy with any of the stuff that we do’. We went back to his house one night and were getting drunk and talking rubbish, and I said to him, ‘What is it that you’re actually into?
